


Slow and Sweet

by hannigramcracker



Category: Rejseholdet | Unit One
Genre: M/M, Rimming, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2252709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannigramcracker/pseuds/hannigramcracker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LaCour can't get a nightmare out of his mind and goes to Fischer's hotel room for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow and Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MemoryPalaceofWillGraham (JaxCat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaxCat/gifts), [DizzyTealFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyTealFox/gifts), [TimmyJaybird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/gifts).



> For the Trash Family.

Fischer blinked into the bleary near-dark of his hotel room. He wasn’t sure what woke him up, but he was certain _something_  did. He studied the ceiling for a short moment before his phone rang into the silence. He knew something had woken him up. He blindly reached out to his mobile that rested on the table next to his bed. He grabbed it and opened it without looking at the called ID, figuring it was Ingrid with a lead on the case or something else to investigate.

“Fischer.” He grumbled into the phone, still half asleep.

Silence answered him. Well, mostly silence. Fischer could hear someone breathing heavily, almost frantically on the other line.

“Hello?”

Still nothing but panting breaths, a muffled sob. Fischer took his phone away from his ear and squinted at the screen, trying to see who was calling him in the middle of the night like this. His heart sank when he saw who was calling.

“Thomas? Are you okay? Where are you?” Fischer asked, sitting up and introducing his feet to the knobby hotel carpet.

“It’s so hard to separate what’s a premonition and what’s just a bad dream.” LaCour’s voice was quiet and hoarse. Fischer cringed at the sound of it.

“What did you see?”

“You - you’re...you’re okay, right?”

“I’m just fine.” Fischer said, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it in the darkness, the flare from the lighter casting long unsteady shadows on the walls around him. “I was asleep until you called me.”

Fischer watched the smoke billow from his mouth and float away into nothingness somewhere near the ceiling before LaCour answered him. “Okay. Okay.”

More silence filled the line between them. Fischer took a few more drags in the space of it.

“Can I come over?” LaCour’s voice was small, timid.

“Why don’t I come over there? I don’t want you to have to walk over here if you don’t want to.”

“No!” Fischer was taken aback by the force behind LaCour’s words. “No, I want to get out of this room. Is it okay if I come over?”

Fischer knew that was his way of asking him if he was alone. “Of course. I’ll unlock the door.”

Fischer heard LaCour whisper a thank you before disconnecting the line. He got up and unlocked his door, turning on the light in the bathroom and leaving the door cracked to allow some light into the room without turning on the overhead light. He didn’t think his eyes were adjusted enough for that.

He was almost finished with his cigarette before he heard a soft and tentative knock on the door.

“Come in, LaCour.” He said, putting his cigarette out and standing. LaCour had opened the door only enough to allow himself in and closed it again almost immediately. He leaned heavily against the small bit of wall between the door and the bathroom. Fischer slowly made his way over to the man.

“Thomas, are you okay?”

His eyes were closed and even in the dark, Fischer could see his chest rising and falling rapidly. Fischer’s heart caught in his throat as he reached out to brush a stray piece of hair from LaCour’s forehead. He hated seeing LaCour this upset, and it had been happening with a staggering frequency. LaCour shook his head quickly, breath falling in broken gasps from his lips.

“Hey, okay, you’re alright. Come here and let’s sit down and then we can talk about what happened.”

“Nothing _happened_.” LaCour said, wrapping his arms around himself, but following Fischer to the bed. He sat down heavily on the end of the mattress, and Fischer felt him shift the tiniest bit closer to him when he sat down as well.

“Talk to me, Thomas.” Fischer said as he scooted a bit closer and lit another cigarette.

“Do you have to do that in here?” he asked, even as Fischer felt him relaxing a tiny amount and leaning into his side. Fischer knew that the smell of smoke had some sort of calming effect on the man, even if he would never admit it to himself.

“Yep.” Fischer answered, exhaling a halo of smoke around the two of them.  
“It’s a filthy habit.”

“But we’re not here to talk about me, are we, Tommy? You’re the one who is in _my_  hotel room at three in the morning.”

LaCour buried his face in his hands. “This is ridiculous. I should go.”

Fischer placed a hand around LaCour’s shoulders before he could get off the bed. “Not so fast. Something’s obviously wrong. I’ll put this out if you want.”

“No, don’t.” LaCour said in a small voice, turning into Fischer’s embrace and grasping at his shirt with fingers that trembled. “It’s stupid. I had a nightmare, is all. I’m a grown man.”

Fischer carefully rubbed down LaCour’s shoulder - small, soothing, circular movements. “It’s not stupid. Do you want to tell me about it?”

Fischer felt LaCour shake his head against his chest, but after only a moment of silence he was speaking again. “I don’t remember a lot of it, which is what bothers me. It felt like, you know, when I see things sometimes. But it wasn’t that, because you’re right here and-”

LaCour’s breath sped up again and Fischer put out his cigarette to be able to hold on to the shaking man with both hands. He made small shushing sounds, trying to coddle LaCour back into a state of calm, but his distress travelled like electricity through the dark air of the room.

“I am right here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“There was so much blood. I saw you covered in so much blood.” LaCour gasped. “Your blood.”

“Look at me. There’s no blood on me or near us at all right now, Thomas. I’m safe and you’re safe and we are both going to be absolutely fine. What you need is some sleep. How about we lay down and you can spend the rest of the night in here with me.”

“You’ll stay here?” LaCour asked, his voice smaller than Fischer had ever heard it before.

“Of course I will. I paid for this room, after all.”

“You did not, Ulf did.”

Fischer scoffed and gently pushed LaCour down onto the bed. He pulled the covers around and over the both of them, LaCour settled perfectly against the curve of his chest. Fischer laced one arm around his stomach and threaded the fingers of his other hand lightly into his hair. Fischer kept administering careful and thoughtful touches whenever he felt LaCour begin to tense up beneath him. He would do anything to keep the man calm. Fischer counted his breaths for what seemed like twenty minutes and was fairly convinced that LaCour had fallen asleep in his arms. He began to relax a bit himself when LaCour spoke again.

“Fischer?”

“Mm?”

“I can’t sleep. I keep seeing it behind my eyelids. I can’t keep straight what’s real.”

“Just focus on me. I’m right here, behind you, cuddled up very nicely as a matter of fact.”

“It’s not enough. I keep drifting, Allan.”

“What can I do?”

LaCour shifted in Fischer’s arms abruptly, turning around in the embrace so he was facing Fischer. He looked up at him with eyes that were alive with something that Fischer had seen a thousand times before, but never with such an intensity from LaCour - no matter how many times he had wished for it.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

Fischer stared at LaCour in the dark. He blinked. Twice. “Yes, I am.”

“I need to be distracted. I need to forget. I need you, Allan.”

“Thomas…” Fischer shook his head, not sure about the direction this was taking. He knew LaCour was not in his right mind, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt or take advantage of the man.

“Allan, please.”

“Thomas, I’m really not sure this is the best idea.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not sure this is the best time. I don’t think you know what you need.”

“You know what I need.”

“I don’t want to take advantage-”

“Suddenly such the gentlemen. Fischer, _please_ , I _need_ you to fuck me.”

Fischer would have been lying if he had said that his cock wasn’t hard and wanting since the moment LaCour had begun to beg and plead with him. It took nearly all the restraint he had harbored deep within his bones not to grab the other man and throw him down and press him into the mattress until he was begging to be let up.

“I never thought you would say something like that, to me no less.”

The room was silent for a moment and Fischer could hear LaCour breathing. It was unsteady and uneven and did nothing to ease Fischer’s indecision. It wasn’t until LaCour spoke again that his resolve began to soften.

“I-...Normally, no, I wouldn’t. I’d ask to make love. I’d have brought you chocolates or something. But tonight, I can’t- I need to be fucked. I don’t need it slow and sweet. I need you to remind me who I am.”

“I can do that, Tommy. But I can do it slow and sweet. Let me try it that way first?”

“You can try anything at this point, Allan. Just, please, prove to me that you’re here and that you’re alive. Take it all away.” LaCour clung desperately to Fischer’s shoulders as he moved the smaller man from next to him. Fischer caught his mouth with his lips and licked his way inside.

Fischer felt LaCour gasp into his mouth as he slid his hands down the planes of his back. He applied steady pressure as he went, kneading tightly coiled muscle, and ghosting over the bones in his spine, whispering against the sides of his ribcage, the jut of his hips. LaCour’s whimpers and whines were muffled by Fischer’s tongue as he explored each and every crack and crevice of his teeth. He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth and LaCour trembled and shivered, arching his back into Fischer’s hands.

“Allan-” LaCour gasped.

“I know.” Fischer assented before dipping down to catch his mouth once more, a strand of hair falling to brush against LaCour’s nose.

LaCour sucked Fischer’s tongue into his mouth, revelling in the taste of smoke and ash that was still present there. The taste grounded him more than he would ever admit. He would never let Fischer know that he didn’t actually mind him smoking, he would never be able to live it down, and Fischer would never let it go. LaCour’s train of thought was cut off abruptly by Fischer changing the location of his lips. Suddenly, there was hot breath on his neck and he was gasping, whining, moaning, fists in Fischer’s hair.

“Allan, _god-_ ”

“Do you want me to stop?” Fischer asked, leaning back on his elbows for a moment to look LaCour in the eyes.

“Please don’t.”

Fischer’s lopsided smile sent a spark up LaCour’s spine, igniting each and every one of his vertebrae and shooting goosebumps over his limbs in its wake. He kissed his neck again, sucking deeply, before moving slowly to his collarbones. He bit down hard enough to draw a startled shout from LaCour, but not hard enough to leave a mark. He moved on, LaCour squirming beneath him, as he worked his shirt up and off, followed by the pants he wore. Kisses traveled down his chest and stomach. LaCour clawed at Fischer’s back when he tweaked a nipple between his teeth, just gentle enough to make the bud harden. He palmed the other one, and kissed a ring around the other man’s navel. LaCour felt like his skin was too tight, like he was burning from the inside out, but he felt remarkably like _himself_. More so than he had in a very long time. He felt real and visceral, and it was all Fischer who was making him feel this way. He could feel himself reconnecting with his surrounded. Fischer was here, and alive, and not dead or bloody or bleeding or leaving him at all.

He was between his legs, making him feel better than he ever had.

LaCour tensed and nearly flinched away when he felt Fischer’s mouth at the juncture of his legs, pressing deeper into his intimate, dark heat.

“Is this okay?” Fischer’s breath caressed his hole as he whispered.

“I’ve never- no one’s ever-”

“Is this okay, Thomas?”

_“Yes.”_

“Good. Let me wipe every thought from your mind, love.”

LaCour spread his legs so much his hips popped slightly as Fischer parted the cheeks of his ass and dipped down between his thighs. LaCour moaned at the sight before his lips even made contact. It took LaCour a moment to get used the sensation of being licked and sucked open, but Fischer was taking his time. Soon, LaCour relaxed into the other man’s ministrations and his body was responding beautifully, opening up perfectly to Fischer’s tongue, cock hardening impossibly further. He began to minutely shift his hips to the friction that Fischer’s tongue was creating inside of him, warm and wet.

He reached down, sliding a hand down his stomach over his hips and past the dusting of hair between his legs, to wrap a hand around his cock. A moan left his mouth, torn from his chest at the added stimulation, as Fischer kissed and nipped and licked even quicker at his hole. LaCour’s eyes rolled back in his head and he began to see stars in the sides of his vision.

“Allan, I’m close.” Heat was coiling in his stomach, intense and almost uncomfortable.

In response, Fischer fucked his tongue even further into LaCour’s ass, reaching up to grasp his cock as well, spreading the heavily beading precum down it. Twisting his wrist delicately and measuredly, he fit his strokes into the rhythm of his tonguing and teething. LaCour mewled and whimpered, begged and pleaded, twisted and thrusted both into and away from the touches surrounding his body.

He came, shouting Allan’s name. It echoed and reverberated off the cheaply wallpapered walls around them as his cum splashed up his stomach in thick ropes. Nearly choking on his release, he barely registered the kisses Fischer was pressing against his parted and panting lips. He felt their stomachs sticking together, bound by his release. LaCour looped his arms around Fischer’s neck, kissing back, begging him silently to still _please stay._

“Allan…”

“I told you I could do it, sweet and slow.” Fischer kissed LaCour once more on the jaw before wiping the mess off both of their stomachs with a corner of the blanket they weren’t using. LaCour was sorry he ever doubted Fischer, but knew he couldn’t voice it clearly enough. Instead, he settled for curling into the space between Fischer’s chin and shoulder and breathing in his scent deeply as he lit a cigarette in the darkness.

“Thank you.” He was asleep within minutes, feeling safer than he had ever remembered feeling with Fischer's hands softly drawing patterns across his back. 


End file.
